


Trainwreck Disorder (or, once a Mess, always a Mess)

by Phosphorite



Series: dumbass medical au [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Medical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorite/pseuds/Phosphorite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't reclaim the past, but you can always choose your path for the future.<br/>(Or, how Matsuoka Rin came to learn that growing older has its benefits, too.)</p><p>[sequel to Chronic Attitude Syndrome]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trainwreck Disorder (or, once a Mess, always a Mess)

**Author's Note:**

> For the longest time, I wanted to write a short sequel to [Chronic Attitude Syndrome](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1652891/chapters/3505769). Then I thought about Rin turning thirty, and his birthday became the best possible excuse to get this done.
> 
> And then it kinda got out of hand.
> 
> I'm not sorry.

 

 

 

"...You have to get out of bed eventually."

"No."

"It's not so bad. I promise you."

"No."

"...You're being ridiculous."

"No. I mean, yeah. But I don't care, it's my birthday and I can do whatever I want."

More than anything in the world, what Matsuoka Rin apparently wants to do on his 30th birthday is to roll up in a blanket like a colourful piece of makizushi and hiss at Haruka whenever he comes five feet closer to the bed. It has been like this for the past fifteen minutes, during which Haruka has managed to wage enough psychological warfare to only get the top of Rin's head to emerge.

Haruka sighs.

Somehow, it feels like this moment is karmic retribution for–– something, though it's debatable whether those are really crimes committed in another life.

"Okay," Haruka says. “But if you’re not coming out, then everyone’s coming in.”

A brief look of bewilderment passes Rin's face before Haruka crosses the floor, leans through the doorway and yells out,

"Alright, Nana-chan, he's all yours."

"Wait––" Rin has the time to blurt out like a sudden, paralyzing realization that _I have just made one the mistake all mistakes aspire to be in life_ , before a discernible _thump thump thump_ makes its way down the corridor until it swerves right through the door.

 _Fuck you, Nanase_ , Rin's expression screams for the twelve hundredth sixty seventh time during the past four years, until it's silenced by what Haruka considers to be a fairly deliberate, tiny elbow in the head.

"Stupid!! Stupid stupid stupid!! Niisan and me made you breakfast!! Appreciate it!!"

There is something very hypnotic about watching Rin try and fight off the brown-haired maelstrom; it almost makes Haruka not notice the shadow that leans into the room, nudging at his arm.

"...I'm not buying you guys new pillows if she demolishes them all again, you know."

Glancing over at Makoto, Haruka shrugs.

"Rin's the one who insisted on pretentious health foam ones," he replies, "It's not my fault they're also ideal for bludgeoning."

"I HEARD THAT," comes a snap from somewhere amidst bedding and flailing limbs, until Rin pulls up, having pinned down Nanako's arms. "For crying out loud, Makoto, _do_ something about your demon spawn!"

Makoto takes a deep breath, before he scoops up the young girl and settles her down on the ground like a decorative ornament.

"Nana-chan, remember what we promised? No more hitting."

"No more hitting," Nanako repeats begrudgingly, and yanks her head away.

Crouching down to her level, Makoto urges her to go on with a smile. "Not even if it's Stupidface."

"...Not even if it's Stupidface," Nanako mutters, and Haruka has to physically will down his laughter, hearing the groan that escapes Rin. In the past six months alone, Rin's dubious nicknames have featured _Dumb Butt, Sharkbrain_ and _Not-niisan_ , because at seven years of age Nanako is fiercely of the opinion that the more she acts like Rin is the most annoying person on Earth, the less people will notice her gigantic crush.

 _Sounds like someone I used to know_ , Makoto once smiled when Haruka pointed this out, but clearly, Haruka has no idea what he's talking about.

"Your sister is in the kitchen," Makoto says, turning back to Rin, "She says if you're not up and dressed in fifteen minutes, she's going to _'make Yamazaki-san dedicate his next broadcast to losers who have a crisis over turning thirty'_. Her words of course, not mine."

He proceeds to wrap an arm around his daughter, then heads back to the hall. "And _you?_ Also have a younger sister waiting for another apology. It wasn't nice to try and convince Mina-chan to eat a 500 yen coin."

As they leave, Rin pulls a face that's probably meant to convey horror, as much as it implies how relieved he is to not have kids; it would work much better, though, if it wasn't precisely his own outspokenness that's rubbed off on Nanako over the years.

"I hate all of you," Rin states, as if to divert attention from how much of Makoto's so-called demon spawn is actually a product of their combined influence.

Watching him morosely rummage through a drawer of shirts, Haruka tilts his head. In roughly ten seconds, what will begin is what he likes to call _The Rin Cycle_ , and it always starts out with Rationalizing.

"Look, wouldn't it make more sense to stay home today? I mean, you're always complaining I spend too much time at work. Going out with everyone would just be a waste of a perfectly good Saturday.”

Ignoring the first stage is the easiest. The bedding lies a crumpled mess on the bed, and Haruka cannot resist reaching over to smooth it out.

"Oh come on," Rin sighs at the lack of response, and moves onto Pleading. "Is it really that unreasonable? I don't think it's so unreasonable. I mean, I'm only asking for one thing."

The second stage is usually accompanied by a tone that sometimes risks tugging on Haruka's conscience, but readjusting their pillows silences any instinctive doubt.

"...Look," comes the third stage, and while Haruka knows to expect Bargaining to follow, he still flinches when Rin's arms snake around his waist from behind. "I have a much better idea. If we drop this whole birthday thing, you and I wouldn't have to leave this room for the rest of the day."

It's this stage that usually gauges a reaction at last; wrestling himself around, Haruka gives Rin a look that's unimpressed and cautious all at once.

"That's what happened when you turned twenty-nine. If you want, it can happen when you turn thirty-one. But it's not happening today."

Rin's eyes narrow, and when the second to last stage hits, Haruka knows to anticipate it too.

"Fine," he Threatens, "Then I hope you enjoy today, because starting tomorrow I'm leaving you for that guy who keeps hounding me for my sister's phone number."

Lightly, Haruka disentangles Rin's arms from around him and lands a soft kiss on the side of his face.

"Alright. But two hours from now, we still have a table reservation."

"I liked you better when you had the social responsibility of a shoe," Rin mutters, but when he flicks on his watch, Haruka knows he's finally hit Acceptance.

 

 

 

"Happy birthday Rinrin!!"

The flat, wrapped present Nagisa hands over later at a nabe restaurant has Rin staring in suspicion before his eyes flick back up.

"...Why do I have the strangest premonition that this should not be opened in public?"

A mock-flabbergasted grimace contorts Nagisa's face. "What do you think I am, sixteen?”

A heartbeat later he’s smiling again. “Come on, just open it – look how neatly Rei-chan wrapped it for you! He made the third-dimensional decorations himself!"

The sound of Rei's name makes everyone around the table share a quick, formidable thought to the man who was generous enough to take on today's patients, in exchange for Rin getting a day off. Generous enough, even, to have also spammed Rin's phone with pictures of all the abscesses he's had to puncture in the course of the morning alone.

In spite of his initial reluctance, Rin proceeds to do as he's told. From across the table, Haruka watches his expression go from dubious to puzzled as soon as a sturdy envelope emerges in his hand.

One look at the plane tickets inside makes Rin do a double-take.

"What the _hell_?" he breathes out, but it comes out in stupefied awe; glancing back at Nagisa, Rin appears genuinely surprised. "I don't––"

"––Pay us enough to justify such a gift, I know," Nagisa cuts him off with a grin, then leans sideways to light-heartedly nudge Makoto with his elbow. "That's why it's from all of us. Mako-chan and Gou-chan and everyone chipped in."

"It's true," Makoto adds; at this point he doesn't even blink at Nagisa's shameless nicknames with a grown man like himself. "Nana-chan gave up her allowance for two months to help."

Haruka has to bury his head in his shoulder not to smile at the terror that straightens up Nanako's spine like a spring.

"W–– whatever!! I only did it so Niisan could go too!!"

Luckily, Rin is familiar enough with this type of denial to allow her to save face; instead of drawing further attention to her embarrassment, he lets his eyes fall on everyone equally with disbelief and gratitude.

"This is... Look, I can't..." he begins, with a crack in his voice as revealing as any words that come to pass his lips, "I mean–– _thank you_ , but I––"

"Stop being such a baby," laughs his sister next to him, but when Rin turns his head, Gou's smile is bright with honest affection. "Just accept people like you. And that you deserve being spoiled every once in a while, too."

He scrunches up his face at her, but it doesn't mean Rin's bewilderment lessens right away. There's something so sincere about his surprise that Haruka cannot help but avert his eyes, long enough for Rin to breathe out: "But why _Australia_?"

"Well, there's someone over there right now who might be able to help answer that," Gou says reaching into her bag, and proceeds to pull out an electronic tablet. "And through the magic of modern technology, he can. Hold on a second."

It doesn't take long to connect the video call. With the tablet propped up across the table, Haruka cannot see the image on screen, but he can more than easily imagine it once a familiar voice rings out in greeting.

"Sousuke, _explain_ ," Rin snaps in conflicted response, which only prompts amused laughter.

"It wasn't me," Sousuke jumps right in, as if Rin's tone is all it takes to cue him in on the topic of discussion. "It was Nanase's idea. I just helped arrange some stuff, for when you guys come over."

Rin opens his mouth, but Gou shoves him out of the way to wave into the camera.

"Ahh, is that your house? And the weather looks amazing! I'm so jealous, Yamazaki-san!"

"I told you, just because you see me on TV doesn't mean you have to keep calling me that," Sousuke's voice groans, "And no, it's not my house. It's the third hotel this week – the production company's covering high school swimming recruits, so of course I get picked to report. All these teenagers are driving me nuts."

Something lights up in Gou's eyes before it clouds over with a frown, as though there's a mental image in her head held back by what she deems appropriate for her age. Rin uses the distraction as an opening to steal the spotlight, and shoots Sousuke a dubious stare.

"You didn't answer me," he says, and Haruka doesn't miss the quick glance Rin casts his way as well. "What the hell are you two doing behind my back?"

"I told you, this is all on him," Sousuke laughs; but a trace of mischievousness enters his tone when he adds, "Though if you're that adamant about it, maybe I _should_ tell you. You know, just to give you a head-start.”

Haruka doesn't miss the irony in how his spine straightens like Nanako's from mere minutes ago. However, it's not embarrassment that makes him shuffle over and promptly push between Gou and Rin.

"Oh, look at that," he says flatly, to counter Sousuke's smug grin at his sudden appearance, "Our restaurant is driving into a tunnel. Sorry, I think you're breaking up, Yamazaki."

"Looking forward to seeing you too, Nanase," Sousuke quips just in time before Haruka cuts off the call.

“If that’s supposed to make you _less_ suspicious,” Rin comments dryly when Haruka leans back from the tablet, “Then you might want to work on your strategy.”

“Aw, come on Rin-chan!” Nagisa grins, “What’s so terrible about a surprise!”

“Any surprise from Haru that makes _you_ so thrilled is potentially detrimental to my health,” Rin responds, but his hand still gently reaches up Haruka’s back; it draws a small path down his spine like a wordless _I trust you, but you better not keep me in the dark forever_ , to which Haruka responds by leaning into his touch.

“Later,” he murmurs with a quick dip of his head, letting his lips nearly brush Rin’s ear, “After everyone’s gone and we’re alone, I’ll tell you everything.”

It’s not quite enough to dispel all doubt from Rin’s eye, but his hand still settles in the small of Haruka’s back.

 

 

 

In the glow of the street lamps, the thick white flakes that falls on Gou's hair makes her look like a snow fairy.

"I wish I could have stayed for longer," she sighs outside the restaurant, "But I have to be back at work by tomorrow morning. I'm happy I got to celebrate your 30th birthday with you though, oniichan."

"And I'm glad you could make it, runt," Rin smiles, lightly tapping her on the nose; scrunching up her face, she huddles further into her plaid scarf, but beneath it her eyes reveal she's still smiling.

"Anyway, I have a night train to catch," she says, then turns to face Haruka. "Remember what we talked about, right? Oniichan can be a bit dense, so you have to make sure he understands you fully."

"Understands what," Rin asks without missing a beat, but the two of them ignore him to exchange a conspiratorial nod.

"Understands _what_ ," Rin asks again, as he and Haruka head home after bidding Gou goodbye; it's a shorter walk to their apartment than from his former grandmother's house, but trying to weather Rin's suspicion makes it feel twice as long.

"Haru," Rin says, and this time shoots out a hand that holds Haruka's arm still, "Listen, I meant what I said – I'm very thankful to all of you for going out of your way for my sake. But there's something you're not telling me, and the last time you kept secrets from me it turned out to be a fledgling pneumonia once you sneaked out to swim with a cold. I had to auscultate you in your _sleep_."

"It's not like that," Haruka sighs, though cannot fault Rin for his logic. As they finally reach their home driveway, he pulls out his keys to stall for time. "But technically, we’re not alone yet. So I can’t tell you.”

Apparently Rin can't argue with his logic, either, because he grudgingly pipes down.

The house is calmer than this morning; a teacup on the desktop and another on the floor still mark the place where Makoto's younger daughter, Minako, accidentally knocked one down. It's like a visual reminder of a world Haruka doesn't mind visiting, but at the end of the day, he still prefers the silence that welcomes him into his own.

Because it's a world that comes alive like the lights he turns on, watching Rin chuck off his coat and dive straight for the kotatsu; a world where the warmth that enters his body radiates not with the heater, but Rin's arm that pulls him down before Haruka can take an adjacent seat.

“There’s not enough space,” Haruka breathes out, half-amused, but shifts anyway once Rin’s back reclines against his chest. When his arms fasten around Rin’s shoulders, Rin cranes his head lightly around.

“I know. But you’re not going anywhere until you tell me the rest of this birthday thing.”

For a moment, Haruka goes silent.

It’s a strange, lingering hesitancy that suddenly holds him still; the past couple of months of planning have all led to this, but upon the prospect of actually living through it still makes him feel… nervous?

"I'll tell you," he finally says, "If you first tell me why you hate the thought of getting older so much."

It's as direct a question as they come.

Yet even though Rin's shoulders give an intuitive start, Haruka knows that he will answer with honesty that matches; because Rin knows as well as Haruka does that without the blunt courage to ask and answer, the past four years never would have come to pass.

"Isn't it obvious?" Rin mutters, "All it does is remind me of time."

He breathes in, allowing his neck to slouch against Haruka’s collarbone once the breath exits with a sigh.

"You know, that all of this–– you know, the clinic, and my friends... won't be around forever. I wasted so much time getting here, and those are years I'll never get back."

When he goes on, Rin sounds almost… muffled.

"...I guess sometimes I just wish I would have met you sooner, Haru."

It does something to Haruka's heart, like a skip and a trip all at once, and his arms around Rin’s shoulders grow firm.

Of course it's not as though he has never thought about it, himself. A life where he could have grown up with Makoto and Rin both, well... sometimes it's a dream that fills him with wistfulness; sometimes, all it does is hurt.

Today, however, it's a dream that proves just how many roads life has to offer if you only give it a chance.

"...Rin," he says, but there is no doubt in his voice, "One way or another, I think... it still would have taken years to get here. A younger me and you... would have just had different kind of baggage to work through first."

Shifting his head, Rin shoots him a curious glance.

“Since when did you get so insightful?"

"Since I _grew older_ ," Haruka says, but it lacks the laconic air he's going for because there's also something very contagious about Rin's wry smile.

"I suppose I should be grateful for that then, huh," Rin counters, and as he leans his neck back again there's definitely renewed humour in his tone, "Because I'm pretty sure that even if we'd known each other as teenagers, you wouldn't have been able to stand me."

This time, Haruka cannot will down his smile. Allowing his arms to drop down, they curl around Rin’s waist, hands seeking out Rin’s own.

"I know. But I wouldn't have been able to leave you alone, either."

At this, Rin sounds like he’s smiling. "And what makes you so sure?"

"Because I still can't stand you," Haruka replies, matter-of-factly, "And there's still days I'd rather move into an underwater volcano than listen to a second longer of you talking about old ladies and their Prothrombin time."

Gently, he nudges Rin with his forehead.

"And yet, here we are."

It makes Rin burst into laughter, and Haruka’s ninety seven point three percent certain there is nothing that sounds as calming, reassuring and vitalizing at once.

And maybe that’s why –so much as there ever needs to _be_ a why– he cannot help himself, turning that light nuzzle into a kiss right under Rin’s ear; it clearly tickles, which then turns the kiss into several smaller ones just for that laughter to continue.

“Hey, hey,” Rin manages, turning his head to grab Haruka by the chin, “You’re not trying to distract me, are you? I distinctly remember you promised to tell me after I did.”

“No,” Haruka says with blunt honesty, “If I wanted to distract you, I’d do this.”

It only takes a small lean to push through Rin’s grip, to catch him in a sideways kiss; unexpected as it may be, he can feel Rin’s back straightening out against him when Haruka nudges his lips apart. Even with the odd angle, it’s a deliberately slow, yet unyielding kiss that ends when Rin lets out an impatient sound and tries to claim his tongue, only to make Haruka draw back and shrug.

“But I understand you’d rather talk,” he notes duly, and with the way Rin’s eyes narrow, it’s small miracle he can even see.

“I changed my mind about liking the older Haru,” he mutters in an accusatory tone, “Both of you might be trainwrecks, but I bet the teenage you wasn’t as crafty.”

“Maybe,” Haruka cannot help countering, like a sudden juvenile nerve that replaces his former restlessness with ease under Rin’s frustrated stare, “But that’s not the only thing that comes with age.”

Lifting a brow, Rin’s fingertips travel from Haruka’s chin to the underside of his jaw. “And the other thing is…?”

“Experience,” Haruka responds, and the last syllable comes out in a breath against Rin’s lips.

 

 

 

Thing is, he did mean to tell Rin.

Means to, would have meant, whatever – it's all kind of irrelevant once Rin's left hand presses Haruka's thigh for balance, tilting his head to gain better access into the kiss.

This time, Haruka doesn't pull away when Rin's tongue pushes down on his own, twice as eager after the first failed attempt; it's familiar enough to tug Haruka's mouth into a smile, yet also unabashed in a way that sends a tiny spark down his spine.

"Kind of like this?" Rin breathes out, and the lowness of his voice implies he can tell Haruka's noticed; there's a hint of challenge to it as always, as though daring Haruka to compare him to his hypothetical younger self.

"That depends," Haruka murmurs against his neck, hands sliding from Rin's waist under his shirt. The warmth of Rin's skin in the glow of the heater lights up Haruka's fingertips, causing Rin to flex with a laugh.

"On what exactly?" comes the response, purposefully aloof as Haruka drags his lips across Rin's neck; they're all meaningless, lazy words that merely serve to accentuate each drawl-like touch from his chest to his hips, until Haruka's hands push past his waistband and his thumbs settle on the groove of Rin's thighs.

"On how self-conscious you would have been back then," Haruka says, and as if to test out his theory, watches Rin bite down a tiny hiss when he lightly runs his knuckles over Rin's groin. Catching his breath anew, Rin's head leans harder into Haruka's shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? I would have been a mess."

There's the laughter again, but it's huskier this time, like a private joke laced with growing arousal; a tilt of his head becomes an invitation for another sloppy kiss, one that reverberates with something low and welcoming as Haruka decidedly unfastens Rin’s top buttons to stroke him through his underwear.

"You're still a mess," Haruka mutters, trying to ignore how quick his senses have grown to pick up Rin's subtler nuances over the years, registering each inaudible gasp and twitch like a glaring turn-on. A lot of the time it works in his benefit; the rest of the time it makes clinging to a cool composure an inhuman ordeal.

Because it is not _right_ that Rin knows this, just as well as he does – with the way that grin spreads, with the way Rin's eyes flick up at him half-lidded and devoid of any shame, it's impossible not to feel the exact weight of adoration that flows from his lips and onto Haruka's when he says, "But can you really blame me?"

Impossible, even, not to kiss him harder after such an infuriatingly naked admission; it might not quell the leap in Haruka's stomach, but then, it's a lightness he has also grown to treasure. When his teeth find Rin's ear, it's Rin's arm that curves backwards to rub the base of his hair, and it's that air of relaxed ease that prompts Haruka's fingers to knead the skin of Rin's lower stomach before sliding down and around his cock.

And really, when Rin’s eyes flick closed with just a hint of involuntary red staining his cheeks, for a brief glimpse it almost feels like it’s possible to–– _see_ it, the traces of the person Rin might have once been: at seventeen, self-conscious and a total wreck; at eighteen, gaining in confidence yet riddled with nerves; at nineteen, finally learning not to apologize for what he wants. And it might be a life Haruka will never get to live, but if that mess of a Rin had ever met his trainwreck of a Haruka, he literally _knows,_ that––

“Either way,” Haruka hears himself whisper, “I would have always wanted you.”

Beneath his hand Rin grows harder. The smile that follows is somewhat sheepish, yet the fingers that dig into Haruka’s scalp are equally bold; they yank Haruka’s neck close enough to lick a heated trail up the side of his jaw while Haruka’s grip on Rin’s cock goes from spontaneous to deliberate, setting a pace of languid strokes with the occasional tug over the head.

The sound in Rin’s throat comes relaxed and guttural, and when he seeks out Haruka’s lips anew his breath is already heavy. Even the slightest added pressure makes him suck on Haruka’s tongue with growing audacity, as if he’s still set out to display a commitment to confidence – that although they’ve spent many lazy mornings slowly taunting each other on the brink of a nearly painful climax, there are times when he simply doesn’t want to wait.

Perhaps, that’s why it’s not such a surprise when Rin breaks the kiss with a pant and looks directly up at Haruka.

“Do you know,” he breathes out, all sharp smiles and half-lidded eyes and god, it doesn’t make _sense_ for someone to be that attractive even after four years of waking up in the same bed, “What _I_ would have wanted?”

Haruka’s response comes in a lift of his brow, like an incredulous doubt over whether he’s expected to answer such a cheesy question; but then Rin’s pushed back the table and pushed back Haruka, and it is a true testament to how figure-hugging his pants are that Rin’s able to lift Haruka off the ground without stumbling on his face.

“I didn’t realize this was the reason you and Rei are obsessed with that gym,” Haruka comments, trying to keep his voice dead-pan even as he wraps his legs around Rin’s waist, “I thought it was just another contest between you two.”

“You’d be surprised how much muscle it takes to hold down a four-year-old with a small lego arm stuck up her nose,” Rin says, then pulls a grimace, “…And since that’s literally the last mental image I want to occupy myself with right now, if you bring up work again I’m going to drop you on your head.”

“It could be worse, I guess. You could be a pathologist.”

“…Floor. Concussion. Neural damage. Pick one, or shut the hell up.”

Lucky for Haruka, though, it’s at this point of their nonsensical discussion that Rin’s crossed over to their bedroom. It takes just as little time for Rin’s disgruntlement to evaporate as it takes to topple them over and into the bed, followed by a hasty scramble to pull off shirts, shrug off pants, laugh at elbows knocking into body parts that get in the way – that completely haphazard routine they’ll never master to perfection, because between each discarded item of clothing it’s much more interesting to kiss that exposed skin, to try and shove the other person away, to finally snap _Look, I can’t take my pants off if you don’t get off my dick._

And still, somehow they always find themselves clung to one another in a half-naked, heaving chaos, with Rin’s teeth on Haruka’s shoulder and Haruka’s hand still firmly jerking up and down on Rin’s cock, and the only thing that really separates them from teenagers is the lack of embarrassment that accompanies Rin’s words when he breathes out,

“…I really, _really_ want to fuck you right now, if that’s okay,”

as well as the wave of arousal that must dawn on Haruka’s face, raw and disclosed when he glances up to say, “…Alright.”

He knows Rin often prefers it the other way, because there’s a part of him that still revels in witnessing that side of Haruka’s intensity; but it’s moments like this when Haruka knows there’s another, different side of Rin that wants to return it, to have Haruka completely, which leaves him just as expectant and out of breath when Rin leans over to kiss his way down from Haruka’s collarbone to his stomach.

And why shouldn’t it? Because the last thing Rin ever is is _careless_ , as if there’s an individual pride in detail: running his tongue across the muscles of Haruka’s lower stomach, hooking his thumbs around Haruka’s waistband to yank down his boxers (“I bet you just wore a swimsuit all the time as a teen,” Rin once teased him, and Haruka glared at him but didn’t respond), then proceeding to kiss the insides of his thighs. It’s all something Rin clearly enjoys as much as Haruka can never get enough of watching him, pushing up to his elbows to stroke Rin’s hair right before Rin’s mouth closes around his erection and licks all the way down his shaft.

Letting out a small moan at the warmth that surrounds him, Haruka instinctively draws up his knees. He knows there’s little point in being impatient, but he cannot help it; as much as his breath comes out aligned with the rhythm of Rin’s lips, he already knows to expect what follows. It doesn’t take long to prepare these days, after all, which has made Rin far more elaborate. Sure enough, when Rin finally comes to a brief pause, Haruka closes his eyes until Rin’s tongue returns to his cock joined by the slick fingers that push inside him.

It’s not such a small moan anymore. No, it’s a sound that embodies his former sentiment on _experience_ , in all the confidence Rin does not need to lend to his nerves but focuses on Haruka instead. A pang of shivers shoots up Haruka’s spine once Rin resumes a steady, almost too undisturbed pace; and it’s wonderful and infuriating all at once, because it might be overwhelming to process both sources of pleasure at once, but it’s also frustrating to helplessly feel that surge of desire pooling up – to this day it still feels bewildering to realize it’s possible for Rin to possess that kind of effect on him at all.

But Haruka’s not like Rin, who needs five stages of denial to reach acceptance. Impatient, yes, but he’s grown to channel even that in time: tugging on Rin’s hair, Haruka prompts him to reach back up and lean over to one side, allowing Haruka to channel his frustration in deep, heavy kisses cut by abrupt gasps as Rin’s fingers continue thrusting in.

“We can just keep going like this, if you want,” Rin murmurs into his ear after one that turns into a whimper, “I don’t really want to stop staring at your face, and I know you’ve come from just my fingers before.”

“…Floor,” Haruka swallows in response, trying to muster as much menace into his gaze as possible when hormonally compromised, “Concussion. Neural damage. Don’t… you dare.”

It clearly amuses Rin enough to convince him of Haruka’s true intent; and it’s not that Rin’s suggestion isn’t tempting (because it is), but putting off his own selfish pleasure is still worth it when Rin rolls over to his back and pulls Haruka on top of himself in a swift, fluid gesture.

“You can’t push me off the bed this way,” Rin grins wryly in his face, and Haruka might roll his eyes at him if he wasn’t far more motivated to straddle Rin’s waist, to kiss him hard while lightly palming their erections together. Once Rin’s hand joins his, the lube that slides over both of their cocks is slippery enough to stir Rin completely awake.

It’s not a painful gasp that chokes in Haruka’s throat once his knees lean in and Rin enters him; it’s the residue of his own anticipation, paralleled in how Rin’s shoulders buckle as his hands grip Haruka by the hips. Dragging a hand across Rin’s chest, Haruka allows them both a few seconds of adjustment before pushing forward and taking Rin deeper inside himself.

“Do you know,” Rin chokes out when Haruka rests his weight on his thighs and slowly searches for their adjoined rhythm, “How many times I’ve… thanked the gods for your… obsession on sports?”

“Swimming… is not a sport,” Haruka disagrees, biting down a cry when Rin’s hip thrusts up; meanwhile, Rin bites down his own lip, thumbs digging into Haruka’s skin.

“One, you have issues,” he fake-grimaces through a groan, “And two, it could be considered… natural science for all I care,” he goes on, as Haruka’s back arches, “Because it still… gave you that physique.”

As if to validate his point, Rin’s nails scrape over the muscles on Haruka’s stomach, before his right hand trickles down to tease his cock; and it’s not like that’s a fair way to end what Haruka considers to be a completely valid argument, but the purpose of it is quickly lost in a simultaneous groan from the both.

Of course, it’s a pace neither one of them has the self-control to tolerate for long. Rin almost knocks Haruka over when he pushes upright, but braces Haruka by the small of his back. Firmly lodged in Rin’s lap, Haruka curls closer to pull him closer; with his cock rubbing against Rin’s stomach, the sounds he hisses in Rin’s ear only make him push in harder.

“Fuck, I’m––“ Rin bites on Haruka’s shoulder, his voice as ragged as Haruka’s nerves feel; once more, he can sense his orgasm cultivating through the combination of pleasure and trust, and more often than not it only takes the sound of Rin’s fervor and Haruka’s name on his lips to cross that boundary over to a climax. This time, it happens within a kiss – with Rin’s tongue against his, moaning into his mouth when Rin comes inside him without a further warning.

Haruka’s own climax ends only half in his hand, the rest of it on Rin’s abs. Sometimes they laugh at one another for it (“God, can you not _aim_ ”), but today all Rin does is yank up Haruka’s wrist, scoops up the rest of his come, and calmly licks it all off the palm of Haruka’s hand.

“You’re in a hurry,” Haruka comments, for lack of anything better to say; once he’s done, Rin’s arms snake around his waist and yank him against the mattress. His skin still glows hot and sticky, but there’s a comfort to that intimacy that instinctively makes Haruka huddle closer.

“In approximately four and a half minutes, my birthday will officially be over,” Rin says brushing at the hair clinging to Haruka’s forehead, and nods at the watch on his wrist. “But you still haven’t told me about your stupid surprise.”

“… _That’s_ what you were thinking about the whole time?”

“Tch–– _No_ , but as much as I’ve enjoyed your distraction, you still promised me. Four minutes, _Nanase_.”

“It wasn’t distraction. You started it.”

“I am ninety nine point seven percent certain I didn’t. Three thirty.”

“Alright,” Haruka mutters, and reluctantly pulls away from Rin’s arms, “But you have to close your eyes until I tell you it’s okay to look.”

It sounds unusual enough coming from Haruka that Rin cannot help but frown; Haruka feels unusual enough for saying it that he quickly rolls over when Rin nonetheless does as he’s told. As he rummages through a drawer on the nightstand, that familiar nervousness returns with a vengeance, but he’s got three minutes left and after that today is over.

Haruka takes a deep breath.

“…Rin, you know how I asked you why you hate the thought of getting older?”

“Yeah?” Rin responds, a little suspicious still, but sounding patient now that Haruka’s clearly willing to talk.

“And you said it’s because you wish you hadn’t wasted so many years to find what you have now.”

“…What’s your point, Haru?”

In thirty years, Nanase Haruka does not know if he’s ever truly felt _scared_ – of failure, of loss, of unhappiness, even heartbreak.

But what he understands in this moment is that for the first time in his life, he _does_ know that fear; the uncertainty and helplessness of realizing there are things he cannot ever let go, as much as Rin has felt helpless knowing there are things he can never get back.

It is a strange feeling, so vulnerable it fills him with anger as much as dread. But they are words he has to say anyway; because it’s Rin, has _always_ been Rin, who challenges Haruka to run through until the very end.

“…I can’t reverse the past or meet you any sooner, but I… Maybe, growing old doesn’t have to be so bad, if you know you’re not doing it alone.”

His fingers curl around Rin’s own, and the sudden coolness of his touch makes Rin flick his eyes open even after being told to wait. Somehow, it’s this insolence and intuitive reaction that sends something far calmer into Haruka’s veins, drifting all the way up his heart when Rin’s eyes travel down to his left hand.

“…Haru?” is all Rin manages, like a hysterical effort to piece together the connection between Haruka’s words and the small, silver band that has mysteriously emerged on his finger. It is just as Gou said – for someone so smart, Rin is arguably the most dense person Haruka knows.

The most troublesome, irritating, impossible, too;

and yet, the only person who could ever run with him down this path.

“…Rin, four years ago you ruined my life.”

The minute hand on Rin’s watch flicks over midnight, and Haruka doesn’t remember what it’s like to be afraid of the future anymore.

“Will you let me ruin the rest of yours?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Of course he will.
> 
>  
> 
> (I have a strange fondness for this universe, maybe I'll end up writing adventures in Australia after I visit Sydney in August myself haha.)


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